The Poems of William Blake: Comprising Songs of Innocence and of Experience, Together with Poetical Sketches and Some Copyright Poems Not in Any Other Collection

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Pickering and Chatto, 1887 - 165 pages
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This book by far is one of the best Poems that has been written. When researching the contents and meanings, Blake is the ultimate in creating a world of wonder.

Contents

I
5
II
6
III
7
IV
8
V
9
VI
10
VII
13
VIII
14
XLII
102
XLIII
103
XLV
105
XLVI
106
XLVII
109
XLIX
110
L
111
LII
112

IX
15
X
16
XI
17
XII
18
XIII
19
XIV
20
XV
21
XVI
26
XVII
28
XVIII
33
XIX
69
XX
70
XXI
72
XXII
73
XXIII
76
XXIV
78
XXV
87
XXVII
88
XXIX
89
XXX
90
XXXI
91
XXXII
92
XXXIII
93
XXXIV
94
XXXVI
95
XXXVII
96
XXXVIII
97
XXXIX
99
XL
100
XLI
101
LV
113
LVII
114
LIX
115
LX
116
LXI
117
LXII
118
LXIII
119
LXIV
121
LXV
124
LXVII
125
LXVIII
126
LXIX
127
LXX
128
LXXI
129
LXXIII
133
LXXV
134
LXXVI
135
LXXVII
139
LXXVIII
140
LXXIX
143
LXXX
144
LXXXI
145
LXXXII
150
LXXXIII
151
LXXXIV
154
LXXXVI
155
LXXXVII
158
LXXXVIII
160
LXXXIX
161
XC
162

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Popular passages

Page 116 - In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare seize the fire? And what shoulder, and what art, Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
Page 89 - Little lamb, who made thee? Dost thou know who made thee, Gave thee life, and bid thee feed By the stream and o'er the mead; Gave thee clothing of delight, Softest clothing, woolly, bright; Gave thee such a tender voice, Making all the vales rejoice? Little lamb, who made thee? Dost thou know who made thee? Little lamb, I'll tell thee; Little lamb, I'll tell thee: He is called by thy name, For He calls Himself a Lamb. He is meek, and He is mild, He became a little child. I a child, and thou a lamb,...
Page 87 - Piping down the valleys wild, Piping songs of pleasant glee, On a cloud I saw a child, And he laughing said to me: "Pipe a song about a Lamb!' So I piped with merry cheer. 'Piper, pipe that song again;
Page 91 - I'll stand and stroke his silver hair, And be like him, and he will then love me.
Page 89 - Old John, with white hair, Does laugh away care, Sitting under the oak, Among the old folk. They laugh at our play, And soon they all say: 'Such, such were the joys When we all, girls and boys, In our youth time were seen On the Echoing Green.
Page 97 - THE sun descending in the west, The evening star does shine ; The birds are silent in their nest, And I must seek for mine. The moon, like a flower In heaven's high bower, With silent delight, Sits and smiles on the night.
Page 20 - Whether in heaven ye wander fair Or the green corners of the earth, Or the blue regions of the air, Where the melodious winds have birth...
Page 106 - He doth give his joy to all : He becomes an infant small, He becomes a man of woe, He doth feel the sorrow too. Think not thou canst sigh a sigh, And thy Maker is not by: Think not thou canst weep a tear, And thy Maker is not near. Oh He gives to us his joy, That our grief He may destroy : Till our grief is fled and gone He doth sit by us and moan.
Page 105 - Can a mother sit and hear An infant groan an infant fear? No, no never can it be, Never, never can it be. And can He who smiles on all Hear the wren with sorrows small, Hear the small bird's grief and care, Hear the woes that infants...
Page 127 - I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow. And I water'd it in fears, Night & morning with my tears; And I sunned it with smiles, And with soft deceitful wiles. And it grew both day and night, Till it bore an apple bright; And my foe beheld it shine, And he knew that it was mine, And into my garden stole When the night had...

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